


A Well Deserved Reward

by LouiseKurylo



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 06:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5774575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouiseKurylo/pseuds/LouiseKurylo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus Pike isn't what he seems -- but what is he?  Cho doesn't know but is determined to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Well Deserved Reward

Well-Deserved Reward  
(After “Violets,” S6,E16)

Chapter 1: A Different Perspective

Lisbon gave a casual wave as she entered the elevator, Friday finally over, Cho watched dispassionately as Lisbon left while Jane pretended to sleep. Who the hell sleeps at work on a Friday night? Cho shook his head, resolute in his determination not to get sucked into the Lisbon-Jane soap opera. They’re grown adults. Grown adults. He reminded himself like a mantra. Still it’s gonna suck when she’s in DC and I get to cope with the fallout . . . forever.

At that cheering thought, he decided to have a drink before heading home. There was a quiet, dim bar a few miles from the FBI building. It was a favorite haunt of FBI agents -- on week nights, anyhow. There wasn’t enough excitement for a weekend outing, so it promised to be pretty empty. He entered, sat down at the bar, and ordered a Coke since he didn’t drink alcohol, reflecting on how stupid it was to buy a soft drink at a bar when he could have a gallon of the stuff at a grocery store for the same money. Fuck it. Atmosphere’s worth it. Half paying attention to the ball game, he finally allowed as how Jane wasn’t the only one depressed at Lisbon’s decision. Lisbon’s departure in two weeks would sever one more relationship that had made his decade at the CBI so ... satisfying. Yeah, I like Jane ... Most of the time ... When he’s not crazy. ... And not moping. But Jane’s not Lisbon. Pike damn well better be good to her or else, he thought glumly. Crap. Sounds like I’m channeling Jane.

Two stools away, another man in a black suit radiated “cop” – law enforcement. Two beer bottles stood empty in front of him, a third about to join them. After a while, the man glanced Cho’s way.

“Hey. Aren’t you one of Abbott’s team?”

“What of it?"

He shrugged, taking a swig. “Just heard the rumors about that little woman agent leaving for DC – the one who was hired as part of that con man’s deal, ‘s all."

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Don’t blame you. Rumor has it Puke – uh, that is Pike lured her to go with him.”

Cho was evenly divided between distaste for a conversation with a nearly drunk agent, and curiosity about the man his former boss was moving 1,500 miles to be with. Cho didn’t have an axe to grind against Pike – Jane’s got that covered – but then again he had no particularly favorable reactions to Pike either. Cho stopped thinking about it as the other agent continued.

He stuck out his hand, “Don Reedy. Art Theft Division.”

Cho shook his hand. Huh! Co-worker of Pike’s – former co-worker that is. Maybe I can get more insight into the man. “Kimball Cho. --So, what about Pike? You don’t seem too fond of him.”

Reedy snorted, “Fond? Yeah, like I’m fond of poison ivy."

Cho turned sideways to face Reedy. “What’s not to like? Mr. Eagle Scout from what I hear. Honest. Brave. Open. Loyal.”

The man scowled and choked a bit on the beer he’d sipped. “Mr. Eagle Scout screwed me out of three commendations and a promotion. This’ll be the second promotion he doesn’t deserve. That I know of.”

“Why?”

Reedy dug a folded sheet from his pocket, opened it, and smoothed it, ignoring the wet blotches where the paper soaked up drips of beer. “That Jane character is under Abbot, right? Here’s Pike’s write-up of the case they worked on.”

Cho read the write up. He wouldn’t have recognized the case from Pike’s description. Since Cho had also worked that case, that was saying something. “Pike wrote this?”

“Yeah. Pike sounds brilliant, doesn’t he? Pike realized the con man could help with the case. Pike approached Abbott and convinced him. Pike engineered the sting. Pike was right about everything, doncha know?” The man’s words were getting slurred.

“Maybe the guy’s a glory hound. He’s still a decent agent with a good record.”

“On paper. All on paper. –Look. I’ve worked with that loser for five years. He’s a piss poor agent. No imagination, no initiative. Everything in his record is him claiming credit for someone else’s work.”

“So what are you saying? Pike falsified the report?”

He shook his head, movement exaggerated from the alcohol. “Oh no. Puke’s too good for that. He never lies about facts, something he could be nailed on. It’s just that the good guesses, the important insights, the useful alliances. They are all Puke’s idea. All.”

Cho shrugged, playing devil’s advocate, wondering how deep this went. “Still not a crime.”

“Actually it is. Remember those three commendations? Those gold stars are a way the brass judges leadership potential. V-e-r-y important. So important it’s a misdemeanor to claim undeserved credit. Lie about the case supporting a commendation and it goes on your record. Lie twice, you can get booted. Brass doesn’t like being fed crap by brown noses like Puke.”

“If it’s that blatant, how’s he get away with it?”

“He’s a tick. A leech. Puke latches on to someone with real talent – like that little woman agent of Abbott’s – and sucks up the good ideas. When he’s got as much as he can, he goes on to the next. Puke never had an original idea in his life. He’s brilliant all right. Brilliant at playing the bureaucracy. Fuck. He’ll probably end up running the DC bureau. So long as he doesn’t run out of talent he can suck dry." The man lurched to his feet. “Nice talkin’ to ya. Gotta go to the john, then home before my wife busts my chops. Drunk and late, y’know. But I’m celebrating. No more Puke for me. He can blight the DC office for awhile.” He turned to leave.

Cho noticed the folded paper still on the bar. “Wait. Your paper.”

“You keep it,” he mumbled. “I know it by heart.”

Chapter 2: Just the Facts

Sunday

Cho thought about Reedy’s comments despite his best efforts. Reedy was drunk. Reedy has an axe to grind. Reedy clearly doesn’t like Pike. Even one of those facts should be enough to dismiss Reedy’s vituperation toward Pike.

Except Cho couldn’t. He couldn’t get the piece of paper Reedy left out of his head. By Sunday, frustration compelled him to look into Reedy’s allegations. All he had was a typewritten page. There was no proof who wrote it. No idea of its purpose. No notion of where it was generated. Cho typed in several sentences from the paper into his computer verbatim and clicked on “search.” No hits from public sites. Cho next searched the FBI’s site.

Bingo! The website for FBI employees revealed the paper was part of the nomination of Pike for a commendation. The site laid out the commendation program. Anyone in the employ of the FBI could be nominated. Anyone could make a nomination. Criteria for awarding commendations were stringent. Employee supervisor endorsement, fact checking, case record, case significance, and conviction results (where charges had been filed). Cho sat back to think about that. Pike’s boss would have had to bless his nomination, speak for him. In addition, Abbott was the supervising agent for the actual case. Pike’s boss would have informed Abbott as a simple courtesy. There’s more I need to know.

The commendations were intended to build morale, provide employees with inspiring examples of excellence. Cho searched the database for other commendations earned by Pike. The reading was impressive. Damn. Stellar record. Cho printed out three examples for more careful review, including the Austin art theft-murder case. He started with the Austin case since he had worked on it. Each fact checked out. But ... but. Cho leaned back on his couch and let his recollections surface.

Jane was bored, bugging Lisbon, annoying me. He was curious about the Art Theft agents on our floor and got up to nose around. Jane stirs things up, finds cases to work on when he’s bored. Happened all the time at the CBI. So, could it be Pike’s idea to involve Jane? Yeah. But why would an Art Theft agent buttonhole some random guy who isn’t even an agent -- Jane does not scream law enforcement! -- and ask for help? Seems likely Jane took the initiative. And who broached the idea with Abbott? I remember Fischer had her back up about Jane lobbying to take on a case without telling her. Sounds like Jane had Abbott convinced before Pike ever met with him. And the sting? Pure Jane. Jane isn’t the only one with ideas, but -- c’mon. Jane as art thief with Lisbon? A marching band? Kim in a leopard print dress? And my fighting Abbott to earn the perp’s trust? Jane would come up with that for the sheer amusement of messing with Abbott. Reedy’s right about the ‘soft’ details. All that stuff makes Pike stand out. Insightful. Proactive. Original. Cooperative across divisions. Cho huffed. L-e-a-d-e-r-s-h-i-p potential. He blew out his breath and shook his head.

The other two cases followed a similar pattern. The facts were straightforward. The soft stuff was highly complimentary to Pike. Someone could have nominated Pike without him having a hand in it. But then why were all three write-ups so similar? Dry facts. Glowing soft details. Cho decided he had some people to call on Monday.

Till then, Cho wondered why Abbott would let such a puff piece pass. Abbott’s too hard nosed, too detail oriented not to notice the undue credit for Pike. ... Lisbon goes out with Pike, gets close. What if Abbott turns a blind eye to get rid of Pike? Boost Pike up and out and leave the crime-solving Lisbon-Jane duo alone. Could be. Too bad it’s backfired. But then, why did Pike’s boss approve the nomination? Maybe he thinks Pike deserves it. Or, if Reedy’s right, pass the turkey? Will the real Marcus Pike please stand.

Monday

“Kimball Cho. Got a minute? ... Things are fine since we finished training. And you? ... Yeah, there’s a reason. A friend’s transferring to DC. Tell me about the homicide division. ... So Brentwood’s a good SA? ... How about Art Theft? ... Brentwood and Cullen are rivals? ... Friendly rivals, then. ... Cullen’s boasting that the new team leader he hired is a superstar based on his last case? ... Nope. Glad to hear good things about Brentwood. ... Look me up if you do. Thanks.”

Cho skimmed the second printout for the FBI office Pike worked in when he got that commendation. He then checked the list of agents he trained with at Quantico. His lips quirked. An agent he trained with was based in that office.

“Kimball Cho. Got a minute? ... Things are fine since we finished training. And you? ... Yeah, there’s a reason. A friend will be working with Marcus Pike from Art Theft .... Right. The same Pike who worked in Denver. What’s he like? ... Anything else? Original? Creative? Leader? ... Can’t go wrong with solid and honest. Thanks for the low-down.”

After the third call, Cho felt he had a consistent picture. Contrary to Reedy’s calumny, Pike didn’t sound like a bad guy. He sounded honest, solid. The kind of agent who was the foundation of the bureau. An agent who fit in, followed orders, slogged through the scut-work so necessary to solving crimes by-the-book. Cho leaned back in his chair, hands laced behind his head as he thought. Pike sounds like a decent agent. What he doesn’t sound like is a star. Foot soldier, not general. Like the guys who filled the CBI’s offices. The guys who Lisbon never gave the time of day to. Cho sighed. His distaste for meddling fought with his reluctance to see Lisbon make an irrevocable mistake.

After a decade plus of working by her side, Cho couldn’t imagine Lisbon bound – in whatever way – to the type of agent, the type of man, she had never even hinted she admired in the past. Fundamentally decent, she always respected everyone’s contributions, of course. But she didn’t respect bosses less talented than she was. And she got frustrated working with equals who couldn’t keep up, weren’t as sharp. So how’s it work if she’s hooked to a guy who can’t measure up to her? Who isn’t as talented as he thinks he is? And what happens when he’s not the star they expect? And what if he does exploit others’ talent – even unwittingly? Cho shook his head almost imperceptibly. Lisbon’s gonna be in the middle when it all comes crashing down.

Decision made, he sat up and grabbed his mug for more coffee. On his way back from the break room, he paused by Jane’s couch.

“Jane?”

“Mmmh?”

“If I wanted to clarify something with the brass without having any formal say in the matter, how could I go about it?”

Jane frowned a bit without opening his eyes. Drowsily. “Enlist someone who does have say.”

“He has no reason to go along.”

“Give him one. Find something he cares about. Tie it to what you want him to do. 101.” Jane turned on his side, back to Cho. More morose than ever, Jane was done.

Tuesday

“Cho. This about the current case?”

“No, sir. I want to nominate Patrick Jane for a commendation. I need your approval.”

Abbott leaned back and regarded Cho silently for a moment. “Why? Jane doesn’t care about that and he doesn’t have a career path in the FBI. He’s a consultant working through his probation in exchange for dropping criminal charges.”

“He deserves it. And his work on the case displays traits the FBI values,” Cho replied as he handed Abbott the completed nomination form.

“Such as?” Abbott asked, skimming the form.

“Initiative. Originality. Boldness. Detailed planning. Cooperation across divisions.”

“And you can back up every claim?”

“Yes. In fact, all of Jane’s work exhibits the same qualities.”

Abbott murmured, “That it does.” To Cho, “And if I decline?”

“I’d like to know why.”

“That case has already prompted a nomination.”

“I checked the requirements. More than one person can be nominated for a case.”

“Did Jane have anything to do with this?”

“No.”

“Lisbon? Anyone else?”

“No.”

“I’ll approve it. For all the reasons you mentioned. Hope you know what you’re doing, Agent.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Wednesday

“Hi, Marcus,” Lisbon said, settling in on her couch with a cup of coffee. “How’s DC? You start work next week, right?"

“Hi, Teresa.” He sighed. “There are a few bumps in the road. But I’m sure it’ll all get straightened out.”

Frowning, “What kind of bumps? Cullen hired you, you moved, and you start your new position next week. –What? Are they jerking you around about carryover vacation days? I’ve heard they get sticky about that.”

“No, no, nothing like that. Tell me how your day went.”

She decided to let it slide for now in hopes he’d talk about it later. “Not bad. We wrapped up the last case. Jane figured it out from the postage stamps on the guy’s mail.” She winced, Why am I always mentioning Jane to Marcus. Marcus is a good sport, but it’s gotta be annoying. “But enough of work. I’ve got about half my stuff packed. Can’t continue till I buy more boxes and packing tape. Who knew packing supplies should be a line item in my budget.”

“Yeah. It really adds up. I’ve got the bare essentials unpacked. It still looks like a warehouse in here.”

“I bet. Let me guess. Couch, bed and kitchen table. Only pieces of furniture not covered with boxes.”

“Pretty much. TV’s connected. I guess I’m gonna have to become a Red Skins fan."

“Ugh. –Sorry. They’re so inconsistent. They play some great games and then–“

”You mean they play about half a game great and then choke in the last half.”

“Hey! I’m still a Bears fan. They’ve had their own problems. ... Find any good restaurants?”

“The town is loaded with them. All those politicians and dignitaries eat very, very well. We’ll get fat if we’re not careful.”

“Oh, I have some ideas for working the calories off.”

“I bet you do. Am I gonna enjoy those ideas?”

“Be surprised if you didn’t.”

“God, it’s only been a couple of weeks and I really miss you.”

“Me, too. ... So, Marcus?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me what’s come up, what the problem is.”

“I don’t want to worry you.”

“I’ll worry if you don’t tell me. C’mon. We’re in this together.”

“I really don’t think–“

”Marcus! I’ve had my fill of secrets and being kept in the dark from – from the past 12 years. We need to be honest. Let me help you.”

Slowly, “Teresa, I didn’t want to burden you with this. But if you really need to know–“

”–I do–“

”–then it has to do with the art theft case we solved.”

“Go on.”

“That case was a big feather in my cap. Solved after two years of no progress. Well, I even got a commendation for that case.”

“Okay. It was an important case. There’s no question Art Theft and Homicide did a good job. What’s the problem?”

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Scuttlebutt has it someone else has also been nominated for the same case.”

“So?”

“The other nomination is – is kinda at odds with my nomination.”

A cold lance of dread went through Lisbon. “Who, Marcus? Who else was nominated?”

“Patrick Jane.”

Her hand dropped to her lap with her cell phone. It took a moment before his voice registered again.

“Teresa? Teresa? Are you still there? Talk to me, honey. Tere–“

Harshly, “I’m still here.”

“I – I’m so sorry I had to tell you. I’m sure it’ll all get sorted out. The facts are solid. And this isn’t necessarily a problem. Two people can be nominated for the same case. It–“

”Marcus, I need to go. I, I need to figure out what the hell is going on. Jane’s been telling me he just wants me to be happy. I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you.” She dropped the cell phone like it burned her hand. She leaned back, eyes closed. Fury, dread, sorrow, confusion, nausea, pain, betrayal battled for dominance. What the HELL is he up to now?

Chapter 3: A Difference of Perception

The FBI

Lisbon walked out of the elevator with quick, sharp steps toward her desk and Jane’s couch. She looked around.

“Not here. Abbott had Fischer pick Jane up to go directly to the case,” Wylie said, noticing her survey of the floor.

“Oh. Thanks, Wylie. Any word on when they’re expected back?”

“Nope. Apparently it’s just Fischer and Jane on whatever it is.”

“Thanks.”

The day dragged. Lisbon forced herself to grind through the paperwork on their last case. She spent her lunch break walking to discharge her frustration and nervous energy. It was nearing the end of the day, but still no Jane.

“Marcus! ... Just surprised. You usually call at night. ... What happened? ... He what? Cullen can’t do that! You’ve already moved and everything,” Lisbon looked around, grateful that the bullpen was sparsely populated at the moment. She regained control and lowered her voice. “Hang on, Marcus. Let me, uh, let me go someplace a little more private.” She hurried down the hall to a storage closet which was blessed with solid walls and a solid door she could close. Lisbon flicked on the light and closed the door. She leaned against it, trembling in outrage.

Finally, Lisbon took a deep breath and continued more calmly. “Marcus, how can he justify it? Yanking the offer after you’ve moved violates protections for Federal employees. ... Just cause? That’s a crock. It was your case and it was a big success. Of course it adds to your record. ... So what’s gonna happen? ... Yeah, I heard Drexel already filled your old position. ... But at least you have a job – I mean, while they get it sorted out. ... So it’s a problem, but not a crisis. ... How can it affect me? I’ll be working for Brentwood. ... Huh! If they’re closing that position for the time being, I don’t have a job in DC. Son of a bitch! ... I won’t do anything crazy but I am gonna get to the bottom of this with Jane. ... By God, I’ll make him fix it. ... Okay, we can talk more later. You gonna be okay till then? ... Love you too. Talk to you tonight.”

It was within two hours of quitting time and Lisbon finally caved. She called Fischer.

“Kim, hi. ... Just wondering when you and Jane might be back. ... Half hour? – Tell Jane to shut up. – So you’re both coming back to the bureau? ... Great that you solved it. ... Thanks, Kim. See you soon.”

Fischer and Jane got off the elevator. Fischer turned left to go to Abbott’s office and report the case solved. Jane continued to the break room. Someone already had heated water in the kettle, so Jane prepared his tea and walked to the bullpen within five minutes. His couch beckoned after an intense, if successful, day. He sank down with a sigh, enjoying the quiet of the nearly empty floor. Sunlight slanted through the windows, shadows long in the early evening.

“Jane!” Lisbon called sharply as she kicked his couch.

“Well, good day to you, too, Lisbon,” he answered pleasantly.

Urgently, intensely. “What’s going on with that nomination for the art theft case?”

He took a breath and yawned. “How should I know? Is this a trick question?”

She kicked the couch again. Harder. “Dammit, Jane. It is inexcusable for you to screw over Marcus instead of facing him like a man. I can’t –“

”Pike?” Jane sat up frowning. He took a quick gulp of tea. “I haven’t done anything to him,” he said coldly, gritting his teeth. “In fact, I–“

Furiously, “You nominated yourself for a commendation and deliberately made Marcus look bad.”

“You’re raving. Calm d–“

She kicked the couch again, hard. He stood to face her. “Lisbon, I don’t know what happened. If you’d–“

Savagely. “It is below the belt to screw with Marcus, you underhanded SOB. Thanks to you his boss yanked his promotion. It’s lucky he even–“

”I didn’t do anything!”

“How stupid do you think I am? You lie about the case and file a counter nomination. That doesn’t help you, it just destroys Marcus’s career. – And mine! Jane, I am so done with you it’ll be too soon if I never see you again! You duplicitous, sneaky, manipulative bas–“

Jane’s cup and saucer dropped, splattering tea and clattering on the thin carpeting. He paled, shaking his head mutely. Stunned, mouth open and breathing in shallow gasps, he wheeled and headed toward the stairs.

Cho entered the hall from the men’s room as Jane strode past, shoulder crashing against him in haste. Lisbon stood shaking by the couch, eyes blazing, hands balled in fists.

“What happened?”

Through gritted teeth, “None of your business.”

“Lisbon! What just happened?”

“Get out of my way!” Lisbon turned and stepped around Cho toward her desk. He put his hand on her arm. She stopped and glared at him.

“Take your hand off me.”

He tightened his grip instead. “Lisbon. Boss. We need to talk.”

She took a breath, visibly reining herself in. “Cho, get out of my face, out of my business. I need to go.”

Grim. “If this is about Pike, we need to talk.”

She stopped dead. In an intense whisper, “What do you know about it?”

“Follow me.” Cho dropped his hand. He went to his desk and picked up several sheets of paper, then headed to the fishbowl. He held the door, waiting for her.

Lisbon stiffly followed him a moment later. He closed the door, tossed the papers on the conference table and sat down. He looked at her, expressionless and silent. After a dozen seconds, Lisbon took and exhaled a deep breath. She sat down. “Talk.”

“Is this about Pike’s commendation for the art theft-murder case?”

“Yes. What do you know about it?”

“I nominated Jane for a commendation for the same case.”

“You what?! –Jane put you up to it!”

He looked levelly at her, expressionless. “You know better.”

“Then why?”

“Facts speak for themselves. You’d better read these.” Cho moved the papers closer to her.

“Don’t mess with me, Cho. You’re crossing the line.”

“I’m not messing with you. I stated the facts as I know them. You need to judge for yourself."

“You have no business–“

”You need to do your homework, Boss. Read this. It speaks for itself.” Cho got up. He nodded once and left.

Lisbon sat, stunned, for several minutes. She angrily grabbed the papers, went to her desk, grabbed her purse and left.

Home

Lisbon had no memory of her drive home. She closed and locked the door. Leaning against it, she felt nauseated and drained. Eventually, she dropped her keys and purse on the foyer table then headed into the kitchen and got a can of Coke. The sugar and caffeine would be physically soothing, the cola syrup would settle her stomach. Once her breathing had returned to normal and the tension had eased, she took the creased papers and her soda and sat on the couch. She kicked her feet free of the boots and shrugged off her blazer.

The first stapled sheaf of papers was Cho’s nomination of Patrick Jane for a commendation. It had been filed yesterday. An hour later, she had read the paperwork for all four nominations – the one for Jane that, presumably, Cho had written, and, three more for Marcus Pike. Lisbon swallowed thickly. After using the bathroom, she washed her hands and splashed water on her face. Fortunately, there were leftovers that could be reheated. She ate half the food without tasting any of it, and tossed the rest. She brewed a cup of coffee and returned to the couch. And the papers. She re-read the forms carefully, this time for detail and nuance. Then she leaned back and thought about the Austin case. And the men described in those nominations.

Lisbon’s cell phone buzzed. She wearily got up. Marcus. She answered on the fourth ring.

“Hi, Marcus. ... Got home a while ago. Rough day, but then I guess yours was a lot worse. ... Can you tell me exactly what happened? ... So Cullen read Jane’s nomination and thought there were discrepancies. ... He said you padded it? –I, I thought nominations were fully vetted before a commendation is awarded. ... He actually read a bunch of the files for your cases and Jane’s, too. Not just the nominations? ... Jesus, what a nightmare. ... I’m sorry it’s blown up on you.”

She swallowed and closed her eyes. “Marcus, I need to ask you something. It’s important to me. ... Did you prepare the nomination for the case in Austin? ... But you drafted it before your boss submitted it? ... Do – do you feel it is an accurate description of how the case unfolded? ... Please, bear with me. I’m asking because it’s important. ... So, it reflects your initiative in tackling a tough case with out-of-the-box thinking? ... And – you’re satisfied that the nomination is a fair account of your contribution to solving the case? ... No, Marcus, I’m not trying to hurt you. Of course you deserve credit for helping solve a tough case. I am so, so sorry you’ve been jerked around.”

Lisbon swallowed. “Yeah, I know there’s no position for me in DC anymore. That was connected to offering you the promotion. ... You should have told me, Marcus. I thought the homicide opening was already posted when you were offered the promotion. ... I see.” She sighed. “I can’t come to DC without a job. Let’s just set it all aside for the time being. We’ll talk more. ... At least tomorrow’s Friday. You can regroup, get your head around this mess. ... So you think there’s no chance anything will change? ... Okay. Try to get some sleep. I’m sorry you had to go through this. Good night, Marcus.” She couldn’t bring herself to end the call the same way he did, the way she had just yesterday.

Lisbon dropped the cell phone on the side table. She picked up the nominations for the Austin case again. She read each once again, comparing them point by point. Unexpectedly, she dropped them, rushed to the bathroom, and lost the little food she had eaten. She rinsed her mouth, laved her face with cool water. Returning to the living room, she donned jacket and boots, and picked up her keys and purse. It isn’t too late to fix this. – Or at least start to repair it. I owe him that.

Airstream

Jane stumbled up the steps, closed the door and dropped onto the built-in couch. He sat there, not thinking, for an unknown amount of time. The shadows lengthened with the waning day. His face was buried in his hands, elbows on knees. A full bladder finally forced him to stir, to get up. After he relieved himself, he stripped and stood in the shower as hot as he could stand it. He finished when the hot water ran out, and tiredly toweled himself dry.

It was fully dark then. He dressed in clean clothes and returned to the kitchen. Working by the dim stove light, he mechanically filled the kettle and prepared a cup of tea. He sat at the built-in table and sipped it. It grew cold as he again got lost, trying to follow tangled thoughts about unintended consequences, unforeseen twists, unforeseeable reactions. It was a house of mirrors, everything distorted. He had tried his best to be the man Lisbon asked him to be. That cost him the chance to be the man by her side.

Even then, he had wanted her to be happy. Pike could give her a future she deserved. He had done everything he could to get out of her way, to not screw it up for her. Something went wrong for Pike in DC. He didn’t even understand what Lisbon thought he had done. Now she never wanted to see him again.

Events of the last several weeks scrolled through his mind like a movie. He couldn’t see what he did wrong. It didn’t compute, wasn’t subject to rational thought or logic. He was wrong if he tried to control her life, make things turn out “right.” It ended wrong when he had backed off, supported her decisions, didn’t manipulate. The one constant, the one inevitability was that anything he touched ended badly. His hopes in coming back from Venezuela were ashes, painful remnants of the most important relationship he had ... with anyone still alive. He wondered whether he had made the right decision after McAllister. There didn’t seem to be much point. It certainly didn’t do any good for anyone.

It took several minutes before the sound of pounding on his door penetrated the thick mud of his thoughts. His curtains were open. Moonlight was enough for him to recognize Lisbon. He got up and opened the door.

“Jane, please let me come in. I need to talk, to apologize.”

He stood aside. This made no more sense than anything else, but he would never refuse her. He sat down again.

“Okay if I turn on a light?”

He looked at her without answering. She flicked a light switch. Then, glancing around, she lowered the window blinds to shut out the darkness, wrapping them in the warmth of light.

She hesitated, then touched his shoulder. “Jane, are you okay?”

After a moment, “No. No, I don’t think so.”

She turned away before the tears that glittered in her eyes spilled. “I – I’ll make tea.” She filled the kettle with water. Regaining control, she picked up his cup, noticing that the tea remaining was stone cold. In a few minutes, she set down two steaming cups, and took a seat opposite him. He regarded her silently. She finally gathered her thoughts and began.

“Jane, I was wrong to accuse you today. I am sorry and I apologize.” She paused and looked at his face. The blankness alarmed her. Jane’s vast array of masks had never before included blank -- an absence of presence. “Can you accept my apology?’

He finally sipped the tea. “Sure.” He shrugged diffidently. “None of it makes any sense.”

Lisbon licked her lips. “Cho told me. He nominated you for a commendation.” No reaction. “A commendation for that art theft-homicide case.” Jane nodded. It was simple acknowledgment that he heard. The blankness remained.

“Marcus got a commendation for that same case. That was a big part of getting the DC promotion.” Another nod. She took a deep breath, sighed, and plunged in. “Jane, Marcus inflated his contributions to the case. I’m not sure he even realizes it. I read his nomination. And I read Cho’s nomination of you. Marcus claimed credit way beyond what he actually did.”

She paused. Eventually he realized she expected him to say something. “Does it matter?”

Looking down, “Of course it matters. I know what you did on that case. If the promotion was based on his commendation, he doesn’t deserve it. And it matters because he won’t do the job well. More crimes left unsolved. Team members needlessly endangered. –It matters, Jane.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Everything. Jane, Marcus isn’t who I thought he was. Anyone that lacking in personal insight isn’t someone I can respect ... much less love.” Jane looked up at her. “I’ve been trying to fall in love with an illusion. I haven’t seen him for who he is but who I need him to be. A life built on a lie isn’t going to work.”

“So?”

“So what happened to us, Jane? How did we get to this horrible place where we don’t even talk?” His forehead wrinkled in a frown, but he only shook his head. “Jane, I kept every letter you sent from Venezuela. Why did you write to me? Why did you come back?”

“I missed you. I came back for you.”

She breathed, “Why?”

“Because I love you. I’m in love with you.”

A strangled half sob caught in her throat. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me? You have to know I love you.”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure what I know. I’m not sure I know how to love you, how to be good for you.”

“Are you willing to try?”

He whispered, finally intensely present, connected, “What if it doesn’t work?”

“How can it be any worse, Jane? We love each other. We’ve been through 12 years of hell together. No more obsession with revenge. No Red John out there. No murder charges. Compared to that it should be a piece of cake.” She smiled, equal parts hope and challenge in her grin.

He swallowed, sipped more tea and said, “I can try. You’ll have to tell me what you need.”

“Yes, Jane. We’ll talk. A lot. Not talking is how we got to this miserable place. Talk and avoid manipulating me. And avoid taking unnecessary risks with your life. If you can do that, I think we have a pretty good chance of this – of us working.”

“Lisbon – Teresa, will you kiss me? I feel like we’ve been apart for so long. I’ve missed you.”

She took his hand and pulled him to his feet and over to the couch. They sat down and nestled together. His lips brushed hers in a tentative kiss, a question. She answered in kind, tongue teasing his lips. They relaxed against each other, exhausted but hopeful for the first time ... in months. Their kisses deepened and heated. It was not the right time to go further. It was a promise they made to each other for the future.

Jane pulled her down onto the couch, cradled in his arms. It was late and easier for her to stay with him than go home. They slept entwined together.

Epilogue

Airstream

Lisbon woke first. It was early, still dark. The single small light only feebly pushed back the encroaching darkness. Her back was pleasantly warm while her front was cool -- too cool. Disoriented, it took a moment to realize she was cradled by Patrick Jane on his Airstream couch. It took a moment longer for memory to fill in the night’s events. She lay still, enjoying the gentle rise and fall and warmth on her neck from Jane’s breathing, until she had gathered her wits and reality solidified around her. Lisbon carefully disentangled herself from Jane’s embrace, urgently in need of the bathroom but keen to let Jane sleep, keen to prolong the sweet moment before facing the complications of Marcus Pike, and Abbott, and ... Jane.

She was drying her hands.

“Lisbon? Lisbon!” The first held a note of uncertainty. The second, fear.

She poked her head out of the bathroom. “I’m here, Jane. It’s okay.” She finished and returned to the couch. He made room and she sat beside him. She offered him a kiss almost shyly, staggered by the magnitude of change that occurred during the previous evening. He returned the kiss with fervor.

“I was afraid it was a dream, not real,” he said quietly.

“I’m still amazed, myself.” she admitted.

“What now?”

“It’s a work day–“

He rolled his eyes. ”I’m familiar with the workweek concept. What now for us?’

“I ... have to end things with Marcus.” She laughed, a bitter edge to the sound. “Remember how I yelled at you for making me a ‘condition’?”

Dryly, “I recall.”

“Marcus arranged for my job offer in DC as a condition of accepting his position.”

“He talked with you first,” Jane offered, remembering her outrage at being moved around like a pawn.

“Yeah, but he lied. Or at least didn’t tell me the whole story. I’d have taken a job everyone would assume I got because I was someone’s lover or fiancee – not because I’m qualified,” she said softly. “It sucks.”

“You’ve established a great reputation in your own right in Austin,” he offered hopefully.

She nodded. She leaned her head back, eyes closed. “Jane, I can’t believe I fooled myself into believing in Marcus Pike. He’s a decent guy. But I’ve been working with such great detectives I forget everyone isn’t that talented. And there’s only one Patrick Jane.” She looked at him and grinned, “Fortunately. Don’t think the world could handle two of you.”

He kissed her head and pulled her closer. “Everyone does it. You take the good qualities of people you’re close to for granted. It’s easy to slip into thinking everyone has that. I needed Angela’s voice to remind me just what Erica Flynn was -- and wasn’t.”

“So what about us?”

“Can we date? Gradually move into a different relationship?”

“So long as we actually move forward. I want more than an FBI partner.”

Softly, “As do I.”

“What about all the rest? Home? Marriage? Family?”

“Teresa, we talk through all the rest.” Noticing her hesitation, uncertainty, he added, “I love you and will do whatever it takes for us to be happy. Together. I’m not being coy, here.”

‘Okay.” After a moment, “Hope Abbott will keep me.“

”He will.”

She huffed. “You can be sure of that–“

”Stop. Maybe it was that way at the start. Now he values you regardless of me.”

She searched his face, his eyes. Seeing no deception, she finally nodded, accepting his judgment.

He pushed up from the couch. “But before all these wonderful things can happen, we have to get to work. Let me shower first, then I’ll cook breakfast.”

Jane got work clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Lisbon started coffee and tea, and got her go-bag from the car for her clean clothes.

The FBI, Austin, TX

Abbott was interrupted in the morning’s briefing as Tormelson handed him a note. Abbott broke off to take the call in his office.

“Yes, sir. ... Pike’s nomination was factually accurate. ... Perhaps his creativity and initiative were over-stated. I didn’t want to argue with his boss over the nomination. ... Yes, I absolutely stand behind Jane’s nomination. ... Every detail. ... Message received. I acknowledge the importance of accuracy in the nominations. It won’t happen again. ... Agent Lisbon asked to remain in the Austin office since the position in DC has been shelved. She’s an excellent agent and that is perfectly fine. ... How long will their reassignment last? ... Yes, sir.”

Lisbon and Jane entered Abbott’s office. He motioned them to sit. “The brass in Washington has temporarily reassigned you both. You will help work through a backlog of cases at another location for the next month, starting Monday. Reception will have your tickets.”

“Sir, is this punishment?”

“Yes.” Then Abbott gave her a slight smile. “Mine. The brass isn’t happy that I went along with a less than rigorous nomination for one of our cases. Taking two of my finest assets will help me remember in the future.”

Jane smiled brilliantly. “Where are we going?” He already read that this was not going to be painful for him and Lisbon.

“Hawaii. Now get out of here.”

A few minutes later Cho was asked to step into Abbott’s office.

“Sir?”

“The brass was intrigued by your nomination of Jane.”

Cho swallowed. “I could take it back if it’s a problem. Jane doesn’t care.”

Cho wondered at Abbott’s faint smile. “No need. I have it on good authority that Jane will get the commendation.” Abbott bit his cheek. “That’s a first for a consultant working off his probation for criminal charges.”

“I thought the fact that Pike and Jane were nominated for the same case was ... controversial.”

“It was. I have been officially reprimanded because of exaggerations which I let pass. The reprimand is entirely deserved.”

“And that’s not a problem?” Cho hazarded, confused. 

“Agent Cho, you have been very helpful, so I’ll do you the favor of explaining. l hoped the Pike nomination would remove a ... distraction from some of my most talented assets in Austin. It didn’t work out that way. In fact, it was turning out badly. Your initiative in nominating Jane solved the problem – for which I am appreciative.”

“But you got a reprimand.”

“Eh. That’ll be forgotten in a month. Meanwhile, I retain two extremely effective partners who, unless I am mistaken, will probably be even more effective in the future. That will pay off for years. Nice play, Cho.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thought you’d like to know.”

The FBI, Washington, D.C., Six Months Later

Marcus Pike received his first review – a favorable rating reflecting his solid, competent work, and, a hefty raise to bring him in line with the other successful agents. He had established a circle of friends in the new city and enjoyed the good regard of his fellow agents. He and his fiancee would be married in the spring.

FINI


End file.
